imagination

EVER HOP A FREIGHT TRAIN

EVER HOP A FREIGHT TRAIN

ONLY IN MY MIND

WENT ON GREAT ADVENTURES

JUST TO PASS THE TIME

SEEMED LIKE FUN

TO JUST TAKE OFF

DESTINATION UNKNOWN

TRUSTING THAT I'D FIND MY WAY

LIVING LIFE FROM DAY TO DAY

OUT THERE ON MY OWN

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I KNOW I SAW HOBOS AND FREIGHT TRAINS ON TV IN EPISODES OF LASSIE AND OTHER STUFF...ALWAYS LOOKED LIKE FUN TO ME...

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Kiss The Sun

Strolling down a long and winding road,

on a quest to kiss the sun.

I Come across a majestic frog to lick;

hallucinogens, coat my tongue.

 

A group of fairies descend from up above,

providing the powers, of Peter Pan.

With youthful grace, I glide towards the sun,

repeating the words, "I think I can!"

 

Icarus is my hero.

For his honor, this quest must be done.

With the help of all, these fairies' wings,

I shall finally smooch the sun.

 

Starvation halts my travels,

so preparedly, I pick through my pack.

Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

Magic mushrooms; poor choice of snack.

 

I depart with dismal desperation,

reaching depth-defying heights.

My optimistic outlook obscured,

by the magical meal, I now fight.

 

A wizardly bird and a rodent with wings,

aide in guiding me back to my path.

Progress short lived, as I plummet back down,

wounded by a warrior wasp's swift attack.

 

"The sun sends it's sincere regards,"

sinisterly said, by the savage wasp.

"My companions, take up your arms!

Our quest is too important to stop."

 

Out of the forest poured even more creatures.

Flying frogs fill the fight with their song.

Mice with bows, make the sky black with arrows.

With sorcerous squirrels, slinging spells, this won't last long.

 

The wasp's brawn, would've beat me in battle;

if it weren't for my magical friends.

As the wasps whisk away in retreat,

cheers of victory ring throughout the land.

 

Not every battle was victorious, however.

My sanity suffers and is slipping away.

The snack slowly sneaking inside me,

will have me grounded the rest of the day.

 

Every territorial tussle has victims;

the previously projected path paid the price.

Forgoing road and forcing through forest,

making way, with my magical mice.

 

I'm lead to an ominous doorway,

lucidity, left lifeless, with a look.

An endless field of fear filling flowers,

baring the haunting head of Captain Hook.

 

With my adventure's purpose losing clarity,

and my nervous system in severe distress;

I beckon the fairies, to carry me back home;

dreaming of Icarus, as I rest.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Writing prompt based on like 50 different pictures.

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IMAGINATION

DON'T UNDERESTIMATE

IMAGINATION

GOOD TO INVESTIGATE

THE INSPIRATION

DON'T EVER HESITATE

WHAT A SENSATION

TIME TO COMMEMORATE

THIS OBSERVATION

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I WAS WATCHING A DOCUMENTARY ON NETFLIX LEAVING SOON JOHN AND YOKO ABOVE US ONLY SKY AND IN IT THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT IMAGINE. I LOVE THAT SONG. I DID A KARAOKE COVER OF IT ON YOUTUBE AWHILE BACK. IN IT JOHN MENTIONED IT SHOULD BE A LENNON ONO SONG BECAUSE IMAGINE WAS REALLY YOKO'S IDEA AND SHE WROTE LYRICS FOR IT. THE CONCEPT WAS HER IDEA. JOHN MENTIONED SHE WROTE A BOOK THAT HAD IMAGINE IN IT...ANYWAYS...WITH THAT IN MIND I WROTE ABOUT IMAGINATION... YOU CAN FIND MY KARAOKE COVER MUSIC VIDEO ON YOUTUBE HERE

 https://youtu.be/1bhSTxTpOFI?list=PLfrTz7o37VP8Evwi3X-U9VMGjBdPNwyI0

IT'S FUNNY I JUST CHECKED TO SEE WHAT THE WRITERS DIGEST APRIL PAD CHALLENGE WAS FOR TODAY AND IT WAS TO WRITE A RESPONSE PROGRAM SO I SUPPOSE THIS QUALIFIES AS IT WAS IN RESPONSE TO IMAGINE...TWO FOR ONE...HA HA

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Building Windmills

Folder: 
Just For Fun

I wish that I could build windmills

In the vast and empty space between my ears

Maybe they would power my imagination

And feed my hopes and fears

I wish that I could plow the fields of my mind

And raise a bountiful crop

With lands and lands of growing ideas

Over hills and valleys until they drop

Into ravines and torrents of inspiration

Flowing through my very veins

Gushing, splashing onto paper

Roaring like oncoming trains

And blasting speedily through my write-block

Then coming steadily through my head

So I can be happy with my efforts

AND FINALLY, I CAN GO TO BED!

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The Elephant in My Cell

You came at a bad time.

A terribly, terribly bad time.

You showed up the moment I couldn’t stand to touch you.

I was afraid you were never going to come.

I should have been glad you came, but why am I not relieved?

Is it that crippling fear that the moment I touch you, you fade away like a ghost?

Is it that you might be a whistleblower looking for an insecurity to use against me later?

Or is it that you are trying to distract me from tending to my garden before it dies of thirst?

 

I want to shout, “Why didn’t you come sooner?!”

I want to shout, “Where were you when I needed you most?!”

I want to yell at the top of my lungs, “Would it kill you to tell me what’s driving you away from me?!!”

But I am too nice. Too kind and gentle to scream and point to the elephant in the room.

The very elephant that a sorcerer pulled out of his hat and crippled both of my limbs.

 

I never wanted to call for help because it reinforces the notion that I should still be in high school.

I’ve crawled around all year avoiding the other teenage drama queens that worship dragons.

Seems like they forgot that dragons like to steal our fortunes and our hearts. Before they eat them.

 

Spending time with my open-minded little brother has planted a seed of doubt in my head.

A seed that gets me thinking that all love does to me is waste my time experimenting with false hope.

 

My imaginary nights with a fallen angel goes along the lines of;

“Yes, yes, honey, shower me with hugs and kisses. Oh, my love, how I yearn for you.

Pleasure me with your lust until the water in your veins runs out and you become a raisin.

Only then, will I toss you in the sun and wonder why the hell I’ve never gotten lucky.”

When will the water cycle end for the both of us?

What compels Venus to bewitch me to make bad choices?

Why else do you think independent seekers with degrees in hand avoid commitment?

Our grandparents and parents are more patient than our generation is now

Because compared to us, they tended to their gardens and their raisins.

You did a bang-up job tending to me by showering me with promises you can’t keep,

With complex wisdom about human nature, stories of your struggle to get your education over with,

And the snuggles and touches that I wished were real more than the chains I dream of shattering.

 

You’ve made this game look so easy, you know?

All that had impressed me about you lately is how you’ve lured me into your arms,

Only to neglect me without warning when the sun was at its hottest.

Part of me does not wish to see you go because I tolerate the pain that your absence has left behind.

You scarcely have time on your hands, but would you care to join me for a cup of jasmine tea?

It won’t take long. What I want to know next is what else is new that you have yet to tell me?

The Beast Inside...

The beast inside…

© 2017 SachikoMochiko " Sachi Ruaya

 

What’s worse than killing someone? Leaving them suffering alive. Now, whether or not they suffer is up to them…

 

Cracks…that’s how the light comes in.

 

You found that someone,

Who you deem; is the last piece of you

O’ but that one…that other one just "

How long will your grip hold?

 

 

It’s a dark feeling; jealousy

Where green, grey and black swirls weave your heart

Like steel, poison ivy 

 

 

As your blood curdles and boils,

your red-laced eyes eyeball

That one who touched your precious

 

 

Your precious gem that you admire from afar.

Your precious one, who births a hazy warm chest.

Your precious half…the other fading half of you.

 

 

But you refrain from killing

And instead of making arrangements to prey,

You keep that one alive  but suffering from your fangs

 

Your inner beast lurks inside,

already devoured half of you and yourself.

Its true form will not feast unless you do

 

 

Your fangs…its fangs bite, drawing thick, oozy blood

Of the one you hold captive in your prison

All for that one precious one, you shed blood

 

 

Your bite…your torture…your beast

Is a reflection of the steel, poison ivy

Is a being born from your selfishness…your jealousy

 

 

But you continue to feast even when you know

Know that this beast will soon consume your flesh, Bone-clean

Because pleasure will come from ones’ suffering

 

 

You are blinded by the beast; your scarlet eyes see no more,

the beauty of your precious gem…

BlurryVivid. Pitch-black.

 

 

You have lost sight of your intentions,

And your precious gem’s light is no more

Now, you know: You. Are. Devoured.

 

 

You sit there on the bottom of the beast’s stomach

Living with the pure darkness of your own

Alone. With your crackling, dry heart -unable to love

 

 

After all, you were just blind.

Destined to lurk in darkness.

 

 

Emptiness. Your skin slowly peels off from the dry darkness

Slowly…painfully, in this prison, the veil is ripped

Revealing something undeniably powerful

 

You.

 

 

The bleeding wounds of which the skin is peeled

Thus, shunned the lies and unveils the truth

The truth of you embedded inside -within the beast

 

The light suppresses the dry darkness 

With your passion, memories, joy and love

You slice through the belly…striving for freedom once more!

 

 

Author’s Note: 

 

This is one of the small fragments to ready one of my upcoming masterpiece. I will write more poems like this (having the same motivational force). WORRY is next.



 
 

© 2017 SachikoMochiko

Author's Notes/Comments: 
This is one of the "practice" poems so I can produce a higher quality work for a special someone of mine:)

Gosh...my punctuation is bad. Just like any other poems I post here, it ain't finished. Still more reviewing to be done. But overall, I hope you enjoy XD

=

Jealousy, eh? Just a quick note, any poem I write is nearly always based off of my true feelings and recent events/emotions. 
"I thought it was good but felt it would be better if it was a story...it feels like your using a lot of words which is good but feel it would make an amazing story if it had a bit more body in it... not sure what type of criticism you wanted. I think you would be amazing at writing stories I’m not being negative I agree with what the person below said just think it’s more story like xx" - Simba
"Raw and honest.Outstanding imagery in words and visuals. I can picture you in my head, shouting these words at the person this story is intended for. My only little critique is that there are more than a few harsh words used that I would have replaced with something different. He's not returning your love but you can't force someone to do so. Other than that brilliant as always I look forward to the rest of the story " Thedeus Hobbs

The Art of Writing...

The Art of Writing

@SachikoMochiko


 


Writing...
Humanity's engraved history,
on the tips of our fingers,
on the tip of the mind

It's a beautiful art, isn't it?
How someone's soul,
personality,
beliefs,
style,
Is expressed with a language
The art of writing

Of course, I do not
I do not limit
Limit to words...

Body language is the writing of the body
Music is the writing to decorate time
Facial Expression is the art of writing and interpreting...from the crust of a soul
Speech writes the base of language

Writing is not what you just think it is
...
It. Is. Pure. Art.


============


Now reading back on this poem, I have found my reason to write.


 


This thing called Writing. It's woven into our nature. As stated above, I consider things such as body language, facial expression, and music as "writing". 


 


 It's our own mind that limits us. Writing is not limited to words. After all, it is a way to express. Our ability to express is already woven in us from birth (for instance, when we cry, we express from the wails written, by our voice, in the air)...


 


And maybe I am mistaken...


 


When you kick when you were in your mother's womb, you may definitely express and inform something hehe...


 


 So really, it's my nature...our nature...to write.


 


Don't let yourself be the one who limits your potential! - SachikoMochiko :)

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Just another quick poem...

Based on Jonathan Chiu's post: "5 Reasons you should write"

See it here: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/youngteenwriterz/1982150/#comments

Figment of my Imagination

Figment of my Imagination

By JFarrell

 

I am just a figment of your imagination

I don’t exist

The grumbling of a piece of cheese

Eaten too late at night

 

A shadow stirred by a

Tap-tap-tapping on your door

Memories awakened by

A howling on the wind

 

The breath on your neck

Of “Spring-Heeled” Jack

The knife at your throat

In Whitechapel

 

A ghost, a wisp

A vivid dream

Already forgotten

As you wake

 

The flea bites me

Then bites the arm of God

And I am nothing, forever

Just a figment, an echo

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

i'm i my imagination or yours?

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Clouds

Clouds

By JFarrell

 

Like a film reel

The pictures flow before me

One by one

 

A majestic bird, an eagle,

Spreads it wings and takes flight;

A steam barge,

Chugging it’s way upriver;

A juggling clown,

Putting on his mask, to hide his tears;

Another man in a mask,

Highwayman, to take your gold at gunpoint;

This one shows the sun breaking,

Over a lovely, sleeping town;

This one shows the sun setting,

Over the smouldering, blackened ruins of a bombed village;

This one shows the beginning of all time,

That one shows the end of all time.

 

Clouds are beautiful and wondrous,

And such an inspiration,

For the imagination.

 

Look up,

You might too

See the beginning

And the end

Of everything.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

clouds are beautiful

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